Life Goes On
by Naphrine
Summary: Movie based. Meg rediscovers the Phantom, and falls in love with him. So does the new girl,Byron,who the phantom is giving lessons too.Erik soon finds himself caught in a love triangle. Who will he choose?Read to find out. My first fanfic. R&R.
1. Chapter 1

**Authors Note: This is the first story I have ever written on a computer, for the public. Please read and review. I will accept criticism, if it is expressed nicely. Just kidding!. You may bash me if you like.**

**Chapter 1**

The phantom could no longer run, his legs unable to support him. His emotions were to strong for movement. He fell to his knees and leaned against the stone walls of his dark, hidden tunnel.

Why? He asked himself, why did she have to do this to him? Why did she have hurt him so? He couldn't understand how she could choose that fool of a man over him. Repeatedly he banged his fist into the cold stone wall, until his hands bled.  
He tried to call himself down by taking long, deep breathes. Something Christine had said stuck in his mind. She said something about his face no longer holding horror for her, because the deformities were in his soul. What had she meant? He couldn't focus on his thoughts, he couldn't think, the pain was to much, to great.

" Curse you Christine, curse you all"! he shouted into the darkness. " How could I have been such a fool, did I really think it possible for Christine to love me"? he said aloud.

The phantom raised his hands to the right side his face, feeling the scars, the defects, the horrors of his disfigured face. _I am but a beast_, he thought, _a hideous beast that no one could love.  
_These were his thoughts, his agony, his miseries, as the hours melted into days, the days into weeks. Finally, because of his lack of food, the blessed relief of unconsciousness over took him.

Madame Giry had searched for her O.G day after day. She looked through his lair, his hidden tunnels, every spot she thought he might be. All in vain. He was nowhere to be found.

She now stood in his lair, looking for some place she might have missed. My poor Opera Ghost, so much trouble you have caused, and yet, she thought, I look for you. _Why? Why do I look for you?_ She knew in her heart she searched for him because he meant something to her.  
At first, right after the fire, she assumed he was dead. But when she saw Meg with his plain white porcelain mask, hope suddenly filled her heart. Something told her that he wasn't dead, he was alive somewhere.

Looking around the darkly lit space, Madame Giry noticed glass scattered under a velvet tapestry. She new that he disguised hidden passageways with mirrors. Perhaps he had escaped the mob by breaking out the mirror and entering into the tunnel that lay behind. She gathered up her skirts and gingerly walked over the broken glass. She lifted up the rich burgundy tapestry and peered inside. Nothing but darkness greeted her. "O.G"? She called out, " Opera Ghost are you in there"? Silence. Madame Giry held her candle high so she could see, slowly, carefully she walked further into the eerie darkness. A few rats scattered around in front of her, and there were many puddles of water in her path. _How can he stand walking through these dark little spaces_, she wondered.

After about half an hour of exploring the dark passage way, her efforts where finally rewarded. There he lay, her Opera Ghost. He looked as if her were sleeping; there was something peaceful and serene about his face, even though he didn't have on his mask. For a minute, seeing him like this, made her heart stop. _He's dead_! Her mind screamed, _dead_! Then she noticed the slight rise and fall of his chest. Madame Giry let out a huge sigh of relief. _Now, how to get him back where he can be cared for._

Gently she pushed his shoulders to awaken him." Come on, please get up". When she got no response, she pushed harder, more persistent. Slowly, his eye lids fluttered open. The fire she was so use to seeing in those fine blue eyes had faded. That sadden her. "See if you can walk, O.G" " I can't" He whispered, "please let me alone" " No" she said stubbornly. " I am not going to leave you to die here like some animal, now get up". He rose slowly with her help.

Some how, after what seemed like an eternity, they made it back to his lair.

She new he would be safe here. "Those superstitious fools wont come back down to a place they thought was possessed" she muttered under her breath.

Madame Giry helped him to his big swan shaped bed. As she turned away she could feel his eyes on her. " I'll be right back, must go up and get you something to eat and drink and some supplies". He nodded slowly. With that, she left.


	2. Chapter 2

**Note: I tried a litte poetry/song in this chapter. Let me know what you think. Yay or Nay.**

Meg had been looking for her mother all day without success. She reached up and wiped her blonde hair from off her sweaty face. _It's so hot in here, and the opera house is a mess_. Meg eyed the ruins around her. The stage and theater seating had been burned beyond recognition, the halls and dormitories weren't much better. There were still a lot of people rummaging through the charred remains, even after two weeks, looking for something that belong to them.

Meg had only found a few pictures and some dresses.

"Meg my girl where are you." _Its mother, finally she's here_. " Mother, where have you been?" Meg ran up to her mother and kissed her on the cheek. Then she noticed her mother's appearance. Her usually neat hair was a mess and her dress was ripped on the sleeves, her mother had bit of dirt smudged across her forehead.

Madame Giry sat on one nearby chairs; her breathing was heavy, as if she had been in a hurry.

Meg repeated her question " Mother, I've been looking everywhere for you, where have you been?"

" Meg please go get me some medical supplies together, and perhaps, some fruits and a little brandy."  
Meg stared at her mother. "Brandy !! Mother you don't drink!"  
Madame Giry waved her daughter away, " Do as I say child and hurry."

Meg rushed off to do as her mother said. _These past to weeks have been taking a toll on mother, but I didn't think it was enough to make her drink. And where has mother been disappearing to for the past several days?  
_She found the items and brought them back to her mother. Her mother thanked her, and with a swish of her long black skirt, she left.

Meg shrugged her shoulders. She had her own problems, why bother about her mother's.

She went off to listen to Monsieur Andre and Monsieur Firmin discuss their plans for rebuilding the Opera Populaire.

"Two years to rebuild the Opera Populaire!" Firmin shouted. "Good God, what have we gotten ourselves into! We should have stayed in the junk business!"  
"Scrap metal" an exasperated Andre muttered.  
" It's that insane Phantom's fault" Firmin moaned. "Actually it's yours Firmin, you wanted to catch him." Andre said. "Yours" retorted Firmin. "Viscomte De Chagny's" they chimed together.

Meg chuckled behind her hand. She knew that somehow they would rebuild and be better than ever. Well in the meantime she should make herself useful; with that she took her self off to find some small task she could perform.

The Phantom sat at his organ trying to think of words to go to the most recent song he just composed. His music was what was keeping him alive. He loved to listen the rich, magnificent, deep sound his organ made when he played it. Music filled him with pure joy, it made his blood flow like fire through his veins. When he first played his organ after Christine left the pain had been to much, the memories were still to vivid. But as time passed, his deep love for his music helped him overcome his fear of remebering Christine. And he played and composed and sang as he always had.

It had been almost a year since Madame Giry had saved him from death and from himself. Almost a year since he had seen Christine. She had been in his thoughts often; but he was starting to heal very slowly and forget her, forget what she had done to him, and that tragic night. His fingers moved swiftly over his beloved instrument as he sang:

_Tragic love, the deepest pain of the heart  
An affliction that rips apart the soul  
Desperately looking desperately searching for relief  
But it can not be found, forever in despair one abounds  
Love was meant to be a shelter from the storm, a crag against the mighty wind.  
It was meant to secure you a everlasting friendInstead tragic love tortures ones mind, heart and soul.  
Like fire consuming, a rose that's bloomingSuddenly love takes hold, it will not let go  
Whispering in my hear, grasping at my heart  
From my love I wished never to part.  
Instead of love I find hate  
Instead of devotion, I find betrayal  
Tragic love whispers seductively, tenderly  
It makes one's soul take flight  
Like music of the night  
Its trap is very neatly laid  
Before there is awareness, before the return of the senses  
Its too late, your pulled into its dark orb  
Don't want to live anymore  
That is the story of tragic love_

"That's Beautiful" a women's voice said aloud.

The phantom turned around quickly. " Who's there?" he growled. He saw a slight movement from the corner of his eye. Walking over to the gate, he saw a young lady. She had turned her face so that he couldn't see her. The phantom suddenly grabbed her by the harm, his grip was like iron. She let out a small cry of pain. She turned to face him, large frighten brown eyes stared at him. He recognized her immediately. " Your Madame Giry's daughter, aren't you?"

Meg cursed herself for being careless. "Yes. I'm Meg Giry.  
" Why have you come here?" the phantom hissed as he released Meg's arm.  
" I guessed my mother had been coming down here, I wasn't sure so I decided to find out." Meg was frightened. _Why did I come down here? Meg you're a fool_.  
"Besides, I was curious." Meg added with a defiant tilt of her chin.

The phantom's blue eyed glittered dangerously." Oh, you were curious then"? About what?, the monster that hides in the shadows? Is that it? You've come to stare at the beast, have you?" The phantom knew he was shouting, he felt his anger rising. _This impertinent, foolish young girl has no right down here! She could have got caught in one of the traps or lost, especially since he had changed many of the passage ways and set new traps. And she has the nerves to stare him straight in the eyes!._ That thought surprised him. She wasn't afraid of him, nor was she scared to look at him, even if he had the mask on! He forced himself to calm down.

"That song, it is very nice, and your voice is lovely, no it is beautiful" Meg said gently. She knew she had upset him, and this was her way of making it better, besides, she was telling the truth. She like his deep, warm voice very much.

The phantom stood gaping at her. No one had ever praised anything he done or said.  
_What did she call my voice? Beautiful? No one has every said that to me. Perhaps I'm dreaming. This cant be real. _But the pretty, little creature ,with those large lovely brown eyes, before him was very real. "Thank you" he finally managed to say. "Please Mademoiselle, would you care to sit?"  
Meg could feel his eyes upon her. She new that he was shocked by what she said to him.  
And now his staring was making her feel a little uncomfortable. " Yes I would take a seat, thank you". He guided her over near his organ.

Meg looked around the room, everything was almost the same as it was the night she came here with the mob.  
The phantom pulled up a little French style chair. Meg sat down.  
"You do know that the Opera Populaire is having auditions? To replace those that left after the fire" Meg asked.  
The phantom blushed at the mention of the fire. He pulled at his suddenly too tight neck cloth. "Oh? And what positions are they seeking to fill?"

" Well, almost half the dancers left, so we need to replace them, and of course, we will be needing a Prima Donna.  
Upon hearing the words, Prima Donna, the phantom's mind instantly raced back to Christine  
He shifted lightly in his seat. _Should i ask her about Christine? what good will it do? But i must know that she is happy.  
_"Mademoiselle, I know that you and Christine were very good friends; please tell me, have you heard from her? How is she?  
The phantom looked at Meg desperately. _Please tell me, I have to know_.

Meg looked as if she could read his mind. "Christine wrote me twice since she left. She assured me that she is very happy. She asked about you. I told her that I believe you still haunt our opera." I was right, wasn't I" . Meg smiled at him brightly.

Meg watched him closely. She thought she saw a hint of a smile cross his features, maybe she just imagined it. His face,or what wasnt covered, was very handsome. She had seen him a few times before the fire, but that was always at a distance. This was the first time that she had been this close to him. Her heart was beating wildly. _I would love to get to know him better. I know that he has been through alot, poor tortured soul. He is lonely. Perhaps, he will let me come back to visit...perhaps._

The phantom noticed that Meg was staring at him. That made him feel uncomfortable. He had to say something, anything, to keep her prying eyes off his face. He wasnt used to people being this close to him, even Madame Giry's hoovering over him will he recovered made him uneasy.  
" So the auditions are next week, are they not?"  
" Yes."  
"They are having it early. I was sure the opera wouldnt be ready for atleast six months."  
"Oh, well they want everyone properly trained and ready for the opening".  
"That is understandable".  
"Will you be coming?"  
"Perhaps".

Meg rose to leave. " May I ask a favor of you"?

The phantom looked up at her with raised brows" Yes?"

"If it isnt to much... that is I ...I would like to know what to call you? I cant just call you Phantom."

"My name is Erik." he said as he rose.

"Erik" Meg repeated to herself. _He told me his name. Well it is a start_._ I do hope i can get to know him better_." It was nice meeting you Erik".

"My pleasure".

Erik watched Meg as she left the way she came. He would have to change that entrace, he couldnt take anymore chances.

I am glad though, that she did find her way down. She is a pleasant sort of girl.  
Erik returned to his organ with a slight smile upon his lips.


	3. Chapter 3

-1**Thanks for the reviews. Please keep em coming. Don't worry; this story will get very complicated. Very. I have serious drama coming up. At least I think its serious drama. I have also introduced a new character. I own this character. **

Firmin banged his fist on his desk and eyed the letter, with the skull wax seal and the elegant handwriting, with disgust. "How dare that phantom**, that thing**, demand payment after what he as done"!  
Andre tried to calm him down. "Just pay him, and everything will go smoothly. I mean, surely you don't want anything to go wrong right before the auditions."

"Pay him, **Pay him!" **Firm shouted "how can you even think such a thing?"  
"He ruined everything!"  
"He did indeed" Andre agreed " but he promises no more trouble if we comply with his demands."

Madame Giry leaned against the door inside of the managers office.

"Don't forget, he wants box five left empty for his use. In addition, he writes for you not to try to get the police. Remember what happened last time you did that. I shall be back later to collect his money".

Madam Giry left out as quickly as she could. She had a lot to do, and she did not want to be pulled into her managers' debate.

The girls and young men, who wanted to audition for dancing, singing or to be a stagehand, were already starting to line up. _Meg and I have a long day ahead of us. I wonder if O.G is going to show up. He only likes the best to be selected._

Madame Giry spotted Meg talking and laughing with some of the other girls. "Come Meg, we should start the auditions now".

Meg let out a long sigh. "She calls" Meg whispered to her friends, with a roll of her eyes.  
"I have to go now". Meg followed her mother to the ballroom. That is where the auditions are being held.

Meg eyes grew large as she eyed all the people that had gathered in the ballroom. She let out a low whistle. "I hadn't expected that many to show up! Looks like we've attracted more than we've scared away" Meg laughed to her mother.

Erik hid himself in a place where he could not be seen, but could still whisper his opinions to Madame Giry. He had always attended the auditions and helped in selecting the newest Opera House members_. No more La Carlottas ruing my opera. I hope someone with a real singing voice shows up. Some one who can sing like an angel, like Christine. No! Stop thinking about her! You have moved on. Just as she has._

Erik glanced at the crowd. The sheer amount of people was starting to make him feel a bit nauseated. But he looked forward to finding some real talent. When the Opera Populaire re-opened its doors, he wanted only those truly deserving to be on the stage.

Hours passed by quickly, as dancers where selected and others sent home with tears in there eyes, Stagehands were sized up and hired or dismissed, singers were welcomed into the opera or waved a dismissal and Orchestra players either congratulated or walked out with their heads hanging low.

Erik was tired and disappointed. The whole day had passed and he was yet to find a Soprano that could be cast in leads. He was ready to retreat back into his lair, away from all the people and noise and the heavy smell of perfume that choked the air.  
He would stay only for half and hour longer, then he would leave.

Byron was nervous. She came to the Opera Populaire to find work. Perhaps singing or dancing. She desperately hoped she could get a job, for she really needed one.  
She walked into a large, ornate ballroom. They had almost restored it to its former glory. You could hardly tell there had been a horrible fire. Of course, they had rebuilt the ballroom and stage area first; they would later finish the dormitories and everything that was not visible to visitors.

The fire had been reportedly caused by a ghost; a haunted soul who had been crossed in love by a young singer, Christine Daae.  
She did not believe in ghosts; but there really was a Christine Daae, so there must be some truth to the tale.  
Besides, the story made the Opera Populair that much more appealing, mysterious and romantic.

Byron noticed a prim looking ,middle-aged women and a girl about her own age standing in the corner, watching people dance. Her mind told her that the woman was the ballet teacher.

"Excuse me Madame, are you the ballet mistress?"

Madame Giry turned around sharply. There before her stood a tall, slender young woman, she had what looked like a file under her arm.  
"Yes. Can I do something for you"?

Byron cleared her throat. "I would like to try out for singing and dancing".

Erik watched with interest as a young woman walked up to the conductor.  
She was unusually tall, for a woman, with long, black wavy hair and an olive complexion.  
The young woman looked a little clumsy and her clothing was a bit worn; but she must have danced well enough to please Madame Giry, otherwise she would not have been sent to the conductor.  
All of those who wished to sing had to first tryout for dancing; to be in the opera one had to be able to both sing and dance.

"What is your name and what are you going to sing, Mademoiselle"? the conductor asked.

"My name is Byron Desmarais. I will be singing a song that I have written and composed.  
Everything you need to know is on the music sheets."  
Byron handed the conductor the file she had been carrying.

Erik was watching her intensely now. She was a writer and composer, like himself.  
Her voice, when she spoke, was rich, warm, and sweet . If only she sang like she spoke… Erik felt himself grow excited.  
_She can! Her voice is beautiful, a little heavier than Christine's was, however she can reach higher pitches. She does need a little work, but with a little training, she will be able to sing like an angel; the music she composed is lovely. I will make her a star.  
__Wait! Is this not how it all started with Christine? But I have learned from my mistake. This will stay strictly a teacher, student relationship. I wont be hurt twice. I wont get emotionally involved._

When she finished singing her heart out, Byron looked at the conductor hoping that he approved. "Well my dear, I…

Madame Giry interrupted the conductor.  
"My girl, welcome to the Opera Populaire" she said with a slight smile.

Byron could not contain her happiness. _Finally, what I've been waiting for! Oh, I hope I don't cry. Too late, the tears are already sliding down my face.  
_She flew off the stage and gave Madame Giry a hug. For a moment the older woman was taken back, but then she smiled and patted the girl on the back. " Meg, come show our newest family where she will be living".

The girl she had noted earlier came foreward. " Welcome, Mademoiselle Desmarais, to the opera" I am Meg Giry. She shook hands with Byron.  
"Follow me mademoiselle".

" Please no formalities, just call me Byron.

"Alright Byron" Meg lead the other girl to the dormitories that were farthest back. " We use the back ones because the others are not yet ready." The other girl nodded.

"You will be sharing a room with Manon. She is a dancer, very talented. You will find that she is a nice girl who loves to talk" Meg said laughing.  
She opened the dormitory door and led Byron into a neat, cheerful little room. There were two wooden beds, positioned on opposite sides of the room, a little washstand, a chair a dressing table and a large mirror in the corner.

" The bed on the right is Manon's. Let me know if you need anything". The girl nodded her head and sat down her stuff. Meg closed the door behind her.

Byron sat on the bed that was now hers and let out a loud sigh. _You made it! This is your new home, your new life._

A knock sounded on the door. " Come in". A girl walked in. She was petite, with chestnut brown, tightly curled hair, and bold black eyes.  
" Hi, im Manon your new room mate" she said with a quick curtsy.

Byron liked her immediately. " I'm Bryon".

" Byron is a bit different for a girl, But I like it". Manon twirled in front of the mirror, then faced Byron. " You'll like it here, and will be treated nicely as long as you don't cross the Phantom".  
" Do you really think there is such a thing, this phantom?"  
Aye, I do. I have seen him or at least his shadows. He is like a ghost, appearing here or there" Manon's black eyes glittered mysteriously.

Byron wasn't sure if she should be frightened or just laugh at the notion; so she simply said " I shall be on my best behavior then".

"If you are not tired, I'd like to show you around"  
"I am not the least bit tired, and I would be glad to have a look around this place.  
Manon smiled brightly. "Come then".

Erik watched as the two girls came out. It was when Bryon turned towards where he was hiding that he noticed her eyes. Erik took a sharp intake of breath. They were almond shaped, and a very light exotic green. Her eyes were stunning against her dark face. However, there was something more, they seemed to shine with an unusual light.

_Those eyes. They burn with an inner flame as if the fire of life was consuming her soul ._

Erik felt things would be a little different from now on.


	4. Chapter 4

-1**Author Note: Thanks so much for the reviews. **

**The Duelist's Heiress: **I read your Phantom Phases. Liked it. It is very good.

Meg decided it was time she went to visit her phantom, Erik. Almost a week had passed since she last saw him.

Meg stopped suddenly. _Oh! Is that what you think of him now? Your phantom?  
_She could not help but smile at the thought, even though its meaning confused her.  
Meg had to admit that Erik was in her mind often. _And in my dreams._

"Meg, why are you just standing there smiling?

Meg came out of her trance to see the laughing faces of Byron and Manon.  
She felt her face grow hot and was slightly embarrassed.  
"Uh, for no reason. It's just that I am feeling, um, happy today, that's all."

The girls looked a bit skeptical.

Manon's smile was knowing. "Well then, shall I wish you Bon Chance?"

"Whatever for?" Meg felt puzzled.  
_Surely, they cannot tell of what or of whom I have been thinking. I hope I do not look like some silly, lovesick school girl.  
_  
Manon shook her head. "Nothing. Byron and I have decided to go out for a walk on this lovely day. Care to join?"

Meg worried her lower lip. She had planned to visit Erik today, but she also wanted to spend time with the girls, something she rarely had time for. Meg felt torn, a bit confused as to which she should chose.

She decided. "Sorry you two. I will be busy today. Perhaps another time?"  
Meg looked at them eagerly.

The girls nodded and walked off, arm in arm.

_I had better hurry for someone else catches me, like mother._

Erik was sitting on the stone steps that led up from the lake, planning exactly how he would help Mademoiselle Desmarais perfect her voice.  
He would have to do so subtly, so as not to frighten her. After watching her for the passed few days, he was sure that not much could scare the girl, but still he would not take any chances.

_I will also have to make sure that no one finds out, especially Madame Giry. She may think I have gone too far, that I would be falling into the same pattern._

"Erik, please open the gate".

At hearing the gentle, soft voice call out to him, Erik looked up with great surprise to see Meg standing at the gate. She was holding on to it, her face as sweet as an angel's was.

He quickly wadded into the lake and over to the gate. "Meg what are you doing here?

Meg smiled up at him. "I've come to visit you. I hope you do not mind".

"No, not at all". Erik undid the ropes that secured the gate.

_I cannot believe that she actually came back! That she wants to visit me!  
_Happiness that he had not felt in a very, very long time washed over him like a tide.

"Come." Erik extended his hand out to Meg, and felt himself tremble with pleasure as she placed her small, soft hand in his. He led her up the steps, then pulled out a chair for her to sit in. "Please, take a seat. Would you like some tea"? Erik was trying his best to be a gentleman and a good host.

"Yes, that would be nice."

He was gone for about five minutes, before reappearing with a tray.

Erik sat it down on a table in front of her. It contained a floral tea set and some strawberry tarts.

"How do you take your tea?"

"Two lumps of sugar and lots of milk".

He fixed it for her.

Erik noticed her dress as he handed her the cup. It was wet almost up to her waist. "Surely you didn't come here through the lake?"  
He had been so suprised by her coming that he did not pay attention to that fact.

Meg's brown eyes narrowed. "And what if I did?"

"Meg, you shouldn't have. It is not safe. Your dress could have been caught. Anything could have happened.

Erik was concerned. He did not want anything to happen to Meg. She was the first person who actually wanted to spend time with him, who wanted to see him.

_I cannot believe this lovely young woman wants to be with me. I do not understand.  
__Maybe she just feels sorry for me._

Meg looked at him with mocked annoyance.  
"How else will I be able to come down here? Through the mirror in the prima Donna's room? It is locked you know."

Erik stared at her. He had almost forgotten about that mirror.  
_I have not even been near that area since Christine was here.  
__Blast Christine! Why did her memories always return at the most inconvenient time?_

Meg watched Erik closely. She saw his handsome face change when she mentioned the mirror.

Shock, pain and sadness crossed his features. Meg felt her heart lurch.

_Meg giry, this is not the first time you have wanted to put you foot in your mouth.  
__You just blurt out things without thinking. I had better say something quick._

"Erik, what did you think of the Auditions?"

Erik seemed to comeback to reality with a start. "I, um, supposed it turned out very well.  
He raised his brows, "How did you know I was there?"

Meg shrugged her shoulders and laughed. "I have always seemed to know when you are there. I am not sure why".  
_I suspect it is because you have a very strong presence. One can almost feel when your there. Because I have always found you to be mysterious and attractive. Because I have always wanted to get to know you.  
_Meg blushed at her thoughts and looked up at Erik. He was watching her strangely, a question in those blue, almost green eyes.

She cleared her throat. "In about six months we are to have the opening night."  
Are you going to cast Mademoiselle Desmarais in the lead?"

Erik could not focus. _What had she meant by saying: I always seem to know to when your there? _He was forced to ask her to repeat herself.

"You were saying what, about Mademoiselle Desmarais?"

"Your not paying attention", Meg accused. I wanted to know if you were going to place her in the lead."

"I have not decided. But really, it is up to the managers, not me."  
Erik knew that was not entirely true. He was sure that Meg knew it was not true either.  
He had caused many an "accident" when the managers went against his orders.  
Besides, he had told Madame Giry to select Mademoiselle Desmarais, knowing all along that she would be placed in the lead.

"I think she has a lovely voice."

"Yes, I do too". Erik decided he should change the subject. He did not want Meg getting any ideas. "Would you care to listen to some of the operas I have composed?"

Meg nodded and rewarded him with a dazzling smile that showed her even white teeth.

Erik felt his breath catch.  
_I will have to be careful about letting little Meg Giry get to my head; and not mistaken her interest for anything other than friendliness._

Meg listened intently to him playing. His music was sweet, sad, intense, and rich, as if he was playing from the very depth of his heart. She allowed herself to be drawn into the beautiful music. It felt as if it were caressing her soul, taking her on a journey through his emotions. _I can feel his pain, the brief moments he experienced joy, his love for his music.  
__I can understand why he feels so passionate about it._

Meg clapped heartily when he finished. "Brava, Brava."

She walked over to him and looked down into his eager face. He looked like a child who wanted to be assured he had done well.  
"Oh Erik, that was so beautiful".  
Meg felt the tears form and run down her cheeks.

Erik carefully observed Meg's reaction to his music. He hoped she would like it, but her reaction was completely unexpected. First, she praised his music and then, to his surprise she started to cry.

Impulsively he reached out and gently wiped the tears that ran down her flushed face. Her eyes closed and her lips parted slightly. Erik looked at her tenderly, longingly.

_No! No! She could never love me; never feel anything but pity for me. I will not allow myself to be hurt again. Never again!  
_

Meg felt her pulse racing at his touch; her heart was beating so loudly that she was sure Erik could hear it. His touch was very slight, but she could feel the warmth through his gloves, and she reveled in it. Then all too quickly, he removed his hand.

"I am glad you liked it." Erik whispered.

"I do, very much." Meg sighed and looked at the little clock that sat atop to organ.  
"Well, it is time I left. Mother will be wondering where I have disappeared to."

"Meg, promise me you will not come wondering down here again, especially through the lake. It is dangerous; there are many accidents that could happen.

Meg looked up at him soberly. "I promise. But when shall I see you?"

"I am not sure. I will be very busy, as will you, with all the preparations that need to be made for the opening."

Erik watched the light dull in Meg's lovely eyes. He turned away.

_I cannot get involved with her. I will not do it. The more I see of her, the more in danger I will be, of wanting to see her lovely face, to hear her sweet voice call to me, to say the things I long to hear. No, I will not make the same mistake of thinking someone could love me the way I want. But perhaps…_

"Maybe I could call for you, when you are not occupied."

Meg's faced brightened. She could barely contain her joy. "Will you? Oh Erik, thank you."  
With effort, she restrained her impulse to run up and hug him.

"My pleasure" Erik said with a slight bow that Meg thought was very charming, "Now allow me to escort you back."


	5. Chapter 5

**Note: Thanks to all my reviewers, Yes, even too those who are brutally honest. Please keep the review coming. It motivates me to continue my story.**

**Duelist's Heiress:** Thanks for your review. Please let me know what you think of my revised chapter 5. You are such a loyal and good reviewer.

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Erik had decided that night. He would not try to pretend to be an "Angel of Music", as he had done before.  
_I know what happened the last time I tried to deceive someone. _When Christine found out that, he was just a man, not the angel her father promised, she began to turn away from him.  
He could well remember that night on the Opera balcony. The night Rauol promised to love and care for Christine, to protect her from the darkness. _From me!_

_  
_No, he would not ever do that again. He would simply tell the girl that he wanted to help her improve her singing. Nothing more, nothing less.  
Moreover, their relationship will be strictly teacher and student.

Erik got up from his organ and walked over to the mirrors that were in the main part of his home.  
He stared at his reflection, eyeing the white mask that he wore. _The mask that hides the monster.  
_He made a habit of looking into the mirrors everyday. _So as not to forget what I am, and what others see me as._

Erik then walked over to his desk and sat down. He would write a letter to Mademoiselle Desmarais, explaining his intentions. He put the wax to melt.

After finishing his letter and reading over it three times, he stuffed the letter into a plain white envelope; then poured the red wax over the envelope flap. Instead of using his signature skull shape, he pressed a musical note into the wax.

Satisfied, he placed the envelope in his vest pocket. _Now to finish business._

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Byron was relieved when Madame Giry announced that the girl could take a half hour Break.  
She reached down and rubbed her sore legs. All the dancing and exercising were started to wear on her muscles.

The re-opening of the Opera Populaire would be in about six months; and she desperately wanted to be good enough to be on the stage.  
_Perhaps if I work hard enough, I could be the Prima Donna. _The thought brought a smile to Byron's lips.  
Ever since she was a little girl, all Byron wanted was to be on the stage, singing her heart out, before an appreciating audience.  
However, all that changed drastically.

Byron sat down on the cold wooden floors, remembering the tragic day that changed her life forever.

_She was eight at the time. Her parents were taking her to Paris, to celebrate her birthday. She could remember the excitement, the happiness.  
__She had worn her new dress that day; a little blue dress with puffed sleeves and such flounces that would delight any little girl.  
__  
__They had gotten into their carriage and were half way to Paris, when shots had rang out.  
__She remembered being jolted awake by the sound and the sudden stop of the carriage.  
__Father got out to investigate, despite protests from mother. _

_There was chaos all around; mother and her crying, father and someone else arguing, the coachman screaming. Then more shouts rang out. Someone fell against the carriage; then a strange man pulled open the door and ordered them out. Mother obeyed, holding on to her tightly._

_The sight that greeted her eyes imprinted itself into her memory forever.  
__Father lay on the ground, a gun in his left hand, his right hand clutching his chest.  
__There was blood oozing from between his fingers.  
__The coachman was slumped over on the seat._

_-_

Byron closed her eyes, trying to keep the tears at bay. She had promised her mother, after the murder of her father, that she would be brave.

"Never let the world know you are afraid," Mother had whispered to her, while she lay on her deathbed, "Keep you shoulders straight and her chin up. Promise me."

"I promise".

She had kept that promise; had become the happy, defiant, strong-minded girl the world knew.  
Sometimes her attitude came across as impertinence or snobbish.  
_But I cannot help that. I made a promise that I intend to keep._

However, Byron knew, deep down inside, that her behavior, her happiness was nothing more than a pretense. At night, when she was all alone, she would cry. Cry for her father, her poor mother, for herself and all those who had to face the same fate, which had to pretend they were happy when it was not true.

She longed to tell someone how she felt, her deep grief and fear; but there was no one.  
_Not even my friends. They could never understand how I feel._

Byron let out a long sigh, and then rose slowly.

Just as she stood up a white envelope fluttered down and landed at her feet.  
Her first reaction was to look up; her eyes scanned the catwalks and beams, but she saw no one.  
She stooped and picked up the envelope. The writing on the front was done in an elegant hand; and to her great surprise, it was addressed to her!

_Whom is this from? Moreover, why did they drop it, instead of handing it to me?_

She turned the envelope over and gently opened the red, musical note shaped seal.

The letter was also done in the same elegant style.

_Dear Mademoiselle,_

_I know that you may be surprised at receiving this letter. Please do not be alarmed.  
__The purpose of this letter is to find out if you are interested in receiving voice lessons.  
__Do not think that I write this because your voice is not good. It is exceptional.  
__However, I have noticed some areas that need improvement.  
__If you choose to accept my offer, then meet me at box five, at approximately five o'clock._

_I shall wait for you there._

_Sincerely,  
__O.G_

_P.S Please do not disclose the contents of this letter to anyone._

Byron was stunned. She had always wanted voice lessons; this was almost like an answer to her prayers. _But who is O.G? Opera Ghost? Surely not._

No one knew she wanted lessons. Once again, she looked up, hoping to find the owner of this letter. No one was up there.

Confused, but determined to find out at five o'clock who wrote this letter, Byron tucked the envelope into her dress.  
It would be safe there, until she could make her way to her bedroom.

Byron looked at the clock that hung on the wall above her head.

It showed 1:50 pm. She had spent most of her break remembering.

Byron decided she would use those ten minutes left, to nourish herself.  
_f I do not, I am liable to collapse right in the middle of a dance._

She hurried off to the kitchen; her mind focusing on when five o'clock would come, and what she would find in box five.

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**Please review and let me know what you think.**

**This is my revised version of chapter 5.  
****Those who have read it, before I made the changes, should let me know what you think. I would appreciate it very much. In the next chapter, Byron will meet the Phantom.**

**Love to all my readers and reviewers. **


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